People come in many types and shapes. Flavors, also. There’s a big difference between salami and strawberry.

But I diverge. I was trying to say that people really are different one from the other. Different beliefs, preferences, behaviors, talents, and habits.

There are many ways of developing a skill such as cooking, playing a musical instrument, driving, speaking a foreign language, and so on. In general, the acquisition goes through phases: beginner, intermediate, advanced, expert. Or: I’m afraid of doing this, I’ll never be any good, hey it’s not so difficult, hey it’s kinda fun, hey I’m good at it. Or: I have a goal in mind, and I’ll develop a strategy to move toward the goal.

I’m proposing a strategy that applies to many skills. To illustrate it, I’ll use the skill of drawing. But! . . . be warned: it only works for a certain type of person.

A specific goal can magnetize your intentionality and give you direction and discipline: I’m going to learn Spanish in three years or less. I’m going to get a black belt in aikido. I’m going to clear all my debts and accumulate some savings. The problem is that a specific goal can also make you narrow-minded, neurotic, nervous, nincompoopy, nihilistic, and salami. You really want to reach the goal, and soon; and you want to be perfect; and you become judgmental and harsh toward yourself because you ain’t learning or saving fast enough, or trying hard enough; harder, harder, harder, Pedro!; and the goal recedes away from you. Madre de Dios, ¡Spanish is un lenguaje diabólico, I’ll never learn it!

Goals have feelings. Don’t talk harshly to your goals, or they’ll recede away from you.

Here’s the strategy. (1) Relax. (2) Relax, and lower your standards, temporarily at least. (3) Relax, and get into the playful swing of the multidimensional learning experience. (4) Relax, and let the goal come toward you.

You want to draw, and to draw beautifully, and to draw well, and above all to draw well; yes, you want to draw about as well as Dürer, Picasso, and Hockney rolled into one. Me too, I wanna draw like that. Relax, and lower your standards. Picasso is always photographed half-naked and smiling, smoking cigarettes, dancing, telling jokes, drinking wine, and playacting. David Hockney is always photographed smiling, smoking cigarettes, and we don’t know that much about his daily habits. But, man, he seems to have so much fun with his art!

Relax, take a pencil and a sheet of paper, and start moving your arm back and forth in space with the tip of the pencil touching the paper. You’re not “drawing,” you’re relaxing and moving, your arm is dancing and your hand is prancing, and your mind is on vacation in Antibes or Saint Jean-du-Pin. It doesn’t matter what result the prancing pencil produces, because you’re not “drawing.”

Look at some object, let’s say a banana. Relax, let your hand and your pencil prance, and let your relaxed eyes visually caress that banana and let your hand follow the visual caress. You’re not “drawing,” you’re “acariciando el hermoso plátano mientras está de vacaciones mentales,” as Pablo would say. Pablo, you know—Picasso. The genius who, among other things, invented Google Translate.

Look at the banana again. A few lines, or curves; its lines are unlike those of an apple. Draw some banana-like lines, an approximation of its geometry, its imagined skeleton. You’re not “drawing,” you’re having a head trip partly inspired by the banana in your line of sight. You’re hallucinating a banana exo-skeleton, and oh this is so much better than ¡try harder harder harder, Pedrito por amor a Dios!

Look at the banana yet again. Let your wrist and pencil prance, and let the prance capture the essence of banana-ness. Then juxtapose an exo-skeleton of a few curves right atop the essence of banana-ness. And, holy moly Santa Moly, “a banana has drawn itself through you,” “while you were on vacation,” “and Albrecht Dürer has never, ever drawn a banana like your banana, Pedro.” The last statement is technically true.

And that’s how you begin to acquire skills: by relaxing your judgments and overly narrow goals, and by engaging in a fluid process of observation, creativity, risk-taking, and pleasure. Then it’s a matter of practice and time. This applies to drawing, learning a foreign language, preparing a presentation, anything, everything. But not everybody; the procedure suits only those types of people who are willing to having fun while perfecting their skills. Are you a strawberry? Welcome to the club. Are you a salami?

Un salami y una mortadela entran en un bar. El barman dice: ¡Ve a darte una ducha, hombre! ¡Los dos, por amor a la patria!*

*Translation: “Relax, and lower your standards.”